HTML and CSS don't matter anymore!

...according to one of our department managers. The conversation was about whether or not a web developer who only knows HTML and CSS but not Javascript is full of bullshit or not she happened to walk into. The sound you hear is me slamming my head into my desk repeatedly.

The first rule of people who claim that they know JavaScript is that they don't actually know JavaScript.

I've been a web dev for way too many years. In my time the amount of JavaScript I've actually had to deal with is pretty small. When I need something like that it boils down to asking google, then downloading a jQuery plugin and moving on.

The first rule of people who claim that they know JavaScript is that they don't actually know JavaScript.

I've been a web dev for way too many years. In my time the amount of JavaScript I've actually had to deal with is pretty small. When I need something like that it boils down to asking google, then downloading a jQuery plugin and moving on.

... and then Googling why "this" doesn't mean what you thought it would in a particular context, then getting frustrated that the 86 plugins you include on a single page make it load slowly, then realizing that three of them mess each other up and you could have avoided it if you knew JavaScript better and could have spotted the bad plugins that litter the global context with a ton a variables and step on each other.

Then, finally you realize that a complicated site can only be made easy to maintain with a lot of planning, skill, and effort. For example, themes are a great way to avoid duplication, unless you have 3 plugins that are based on incompatible theming systems. Back on the topic of JavaScript, five different string formatting functions make the problem worse, not better.

I used to use JavaScript sparingly. I started web development in 1996, back then you couldn't expect JavaScript to be there and it didn't do all that much. Nowadays, my web apps are usually 40% server-side code, 20% markup, and 40% JavaScript.

The conversation was about whether or not a web developer who only knows HTML and CSS but not Javascript is full of bullshit or not she happened to walk into.

I can't figure out what this sentence is about, let alone the conversation. Maybe you were thinking about javascript and assumed that period insertion was automatic?

Let me rearrange the sentence a bit so it actually makes sense:

The conversation she happened to walk into was about whether or not a web developer who only knows HTML and CSS but not Javascript is full of bullshit.

Thanks. I had re-arranged the clauses a few too many times. Originally it sounded like I was having a conversation with her, so I wanted to make it clearer that I was having a conversation with someone else and she happened to overhear. Anyway, her point was that HTML and CSS are outdated things. I have no idea what she thinks the internet is made with.

The conversation was about whether or not a web developer who only knows HTML and CSS but not Javascript is full of bullshit or not she happened to walk into.

I can't figure out what this sentence is about, let alone the conversation. Maybe you were thinking about javascript and assumed that period insertion was automatic?

Let me rearrange the sentence a bit so it actually makes sense:

The conversation she happened to walk into was about whether or not a web developer who only knows HTML and CSS but not Javascript is full of bullshit.

Thanks. I had re-arranged the clauses a few too many times. Originally it sounded like I was having a conversation with her, so I wanted to make it clearer that I was having a conversation with someone else and she happened to overhear. Anyway, her point was that HTML and CSS are outdated things. I have no idea what she thinks the internet is made with.

I prefer rearranging the clauses so that she happened to walk into bullshit.

The conversation was about whether or not a web developer who only knows HTML and CSS but not Javascript is full of bullshit or not she happened to walk into.

I can't figure out what this sentence is about, let alone the conversation. Maybe you were thinking about javascript and assumed that period insertion was automatic?

Let me rearrange the sentence a bit so it actually makes sense:

The conversation she happened to walk into was about whether or not a web developer who only knows HTML and CSS but not Javascript is full of bullshit.

Thanks. I had re-arranged the clauses a few too many times. Originally it sounded like I was having a conversation with her, so I wanted to make it clearer that I was having a conversation with someone else and she happened to overhear. Anyway, her point was that HTML and CSS are outdated things. I have no idea what she thinks the internet is made with.

I prefer rearranging the clauses so that she happened to walk into bullshit.

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It all started when our cliche, protagonistic figure, Ben L, woke up in a magical cornfield. It was the third time it had happened. Feeling abnormally puzzled, Ben L punched a wolverine, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). A few unfulfilled decades later, he realized that his beloved Chromebook was missing! Immediately he called his annoying neighbor, Ronald. Ben L had known Ronald for (plus or minus) 550,000 years, the majority of which were eccentric ones. Ronald was unique. He was intelligent though sometimes a little... funny-smelling. Ben L called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Ronald picked up to a very ecstatic Ben L. Ronald calmly assured him that most 3-legged wallabies sigh before mating, yet long-haired sea monkeys usually earnestly yawn after mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting Ben L. Why was Ronald trying to distract Ben L? Because he had snuck out from Ben L's with the Chromebook only four days prior. It was a curious little Chromebook... how could he resist?

It didn't take long before Ben L got back to the subject at hand: his Chromebook. Ronald cringed. Relunctantly, Ronald invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Chromebook. Ben L grabbed his whale and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Ronald realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the Chromebook and he had to do it carefully. He figured that if Ben L took the noise-polluting import, he had take at least eight minutes before Ben L would get there. But if he took the HTML and CSS? Then Ronald would be excessively screwed.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Ronald was interrupted by nine selfish blakeyrats that were lured by his Chromebook. Ronald yawned; 'Not again', he thought. Feeling puzzled, he aptly reached for his dull pencil and randomly stroked every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the lemur-infested moor, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the HTML and CSS rolling up. It was Ben L.

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a 12-pack of gerbils, so he knew he was running late. With a inept leap, Ben L was out of the HTML and CSS and went surreptitiously jaunting toward Ronald's front door. Meanwhile inside, Ronald was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the Chromebook into a box of dangerous oil-soaked rags and then slid the box behind his whale. Ronald was concerned but at least the Chromebook was concealed. The doorbell rang.

'Come in,' Ronald flamboyantly purred. With a inept push, Ben L opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some dimwitted self-righteous ass in a hippie-pleasing hybrid vehicle,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Ronald assured him. Ben L took a seat tragically close to where Ronald had hidden the Chromebook. Ronald cringed trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But Ben L was distracted. Just as zero people expected Ronald noticed a stupid look on Ben L's face. Ben L slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'...What's that smell?'

Ronald felt a stabbing pain in his armpit when Ben L asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the Chromebook right by his oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A clueless look started to form on Ben L's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's gerbils from when she used to have pet disease-carrying chipmunks. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Ben L nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Ronald could react, Ben L thoughtfully lunged toward the box and opened it. The Chromebook was plainly in view.

Ben L stared at Ronald for what what must've been six millseconds. Unaware of the bleakness of existence, Ronald groped surreptitiously in Ben L's direction, clearly desperate. Ben L grabbed the Chromebook and bolted for the door. It was locked. Ronald let out a eccentric chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Ben L,' he rebuked. Ronald always had been a little selfish, so Ben L knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Ronald did something crazy, like... start chucking dangerous oil-soaked rags at him or something. As if it really mattered he gripped his Chromebook tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

Ronald looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Ben L. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame three days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for Ben L. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Ronald walked over to the window and looked down. Ben L was gone.

Just yonder, Ben L was struggling to make his way through the magical cornfield behind Ronald's place. Ben L had severely hurt his taint during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral blakeyrats suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Chromebook. One by one they latched on to Ben L. Already weakened from his injury, Ben L yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of blakeyrats running off with his Chromebook.

About seven hours later, Ben L awoke, his shin throbbing. It was dark and Ben L did not know where he was. Deep in the mysterious lemur-infested moor, Ben L was barely lost. Happy as a frickin' monkey, he remembered that his Chromebook was taken by the blakeyrats. But at that point, he was just thankful for his life. That's when, to his horror, a misshapen blakeyrat emerged from the lemur-infested moor. It was the alpha blakeyrat. Ben L opened his mouth to scream but was cut short when the blakeyrat sunk its teeth into Ben L's prostate. With a faint groan, the life escaped from Ben L's lungs, but not before he realized that he was a failure.

Less than eight miles away, Ronald was entombed by anguish over the loss of the Chromebook. 'MY PRECIOUS!!' he cried, as he reached for a sharpened ripened avocado. With a skillful thrust, he buried it deeply into his taint. As the room began to fade to black, he thought about Ben L... wishing he had found the courage to tell him that he loved him. But he would die alone that day. All that remained was the Chromebook that had turned them against each other, ultimately causing their demise. And as the dew on melancholy sappling branches began to reflect the dawn's reddish glare, all that could be heard was the chilling cry of distant blakeyrats, desecrating all things sacred to virtuous men, and perpetuating an evil that would reign for centuries to come. Our heroes would've lived unhappily ever after, but they were too busy being dead.

The first rule of people who claim that they know JavaScript is that they don't actually know JavaScript.

I've been a web dev for way too many years. In my time the amount of JavaScript I've actually had to deal with is pretty small. When I need something like that it boils down to asking google, then downloading a jQuery plugin and moving on.

... and then Googling why "this" doesn't mean what you thought it would in a particular context, then getting frustrated that the 86 plugins you include on a single page make it load slowly, then realizing that three of them mess each other up and you could have avoided it if you knew JavaScript better and could have spotted the bad plugins that litter the global context with a ton a variables and step on each other.

Then, finally you realize that a complicated site can only be made easy to maintain with a lot of planning, skill, and effort. For example, themes are a great way to avoid duplication, unless you have 3 plugins that are based on incompatible theming systems. Back on the topic of JavaScript, five different string formatting functions make the problem worse, not better.

I used to use JavaScript sparingly. I started web development in 1996, back then you couldn't expect JavaScript to be there and it didn't do all that much. Nowadays, my web apps are usually 40% server-side code, 20% markup, and 40% JavaScript.

It's taken me the last 18 months to finally become "good" at JavaScript. The biggest thing I've learnt along the way is that the DOM is a crazy psychotic mess (and trying to do a UI in it is actually a bit like trying to make an omelette out of cement). And that everything on the internet seems to leak memory like a sieve.

And that most people write "cool" javascript, but not maintainable or practical JavaScript. Callback hell (vs Promises) and other stupidity which make doing sweet things painful.

It all started when our cliche, protagonistic figure, Ben L, woke up in a magical cornfield. It was the third time it had happened. Feeling abnormally puzzled, Ben L punched a wolverine, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). A few unfulfilled decades later, he realized that his beloved Chromebook was missing! Immediately he called his annoying neighbor, Ronald. Ben L had known Ronald for (plus or minus) 550,000 years, the majority of which were eccentric ones. Ronald was unique. He was intelligent though sometimes a little... funny-smelling. Ben L called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Ronald picked up to a very ecstatic Ben L. Ronald calmly assured him that most 3-legged wallabies sigh before mating, yet long-haired sea monkeys usually earnestly yawn after mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting Ben L. Why was Ronald trying to distract Ben L? Because he had snuck out from Ben L's with the Chromebook only four days prior. It was a curious little Chromebook... how could he resist?

It didn't take long before Ben L got back to the subject at hand: his Chromebook. Ronald cringed. Relunctantly, Ronald invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Chromebook. Ben L grabbed his whale and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Ronald realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the Chromebook and he had to do it carefully. He figured that if Ben L took the noise-polluting import, he had take at least eight minutes before Ben L would get there. But if he took the HTML and CSS? Then Ronald would be excessively screwed.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Ronald was interrupted by nine selfish blakeyrats that were lured by his Chromebook. Ronald yawned; 'Not again', he thought. Feeling puzzled, he aptly reached for his dull pencil and randomly stroked every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the lemur-infested moor, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the HTML and CSS rolling up. It was Ben L.

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a 12-pack of gerbils, so he knew he was running late. With a inept leap, Ben L was out of the HTML and CSS and went surreptitiously jaunting toward Ronald's front door. Meanwhile inside, Ronald was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the Chromebook into a box of dangerous oil-soaked rags and then slid the box behind his whale. Ronald was concerned but at least the Chromebook was concealed. The doorbell rang.

'Come in,' Ronald flamboyantly purred. With a inept push, Ben L opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some dimwitted self-righteous ass in a hippie-pleasing hybrid vehicle,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Ronald assured him. Ben L took a seat tragically close to where Ronald had hidden the Chromebook. Ronald cringed trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But Ben L was distracted. Just as zero people expected Ronald noticed a stupid look on Ben L's face. Ben L slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'...What's that smell?'

Ronald felt a stabbing pain in his armpit when Ben L asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the Chromebook right by his oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A clueless look started to form on Ben L's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's gerbils from when she used to have pet disease-carrying chipmunks. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Ben L nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Ronald could react, Ben L thoughtfully lunged toward the box and opened it. The Chromebook was plainly in view.

Ben L stared at Ronald for what what must've been six millseconds. Unaware of the bleakness of existence, Ronald groped surreptitiously in Ben L's direction, clearly desperate. Ben L grabbed the Chromebook and bolted for the door. It was locked. Ronald let out a eccentric chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Ben L,' he rebuked. Ronald always had been a little selfish, so Ben L knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Ronald did something crazy, like... start chucking dangerous oil-soaked rags at him or something. As if it really mattered he gripped his Chromebook tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

Ronald looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Ben L. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame three days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for Ben L. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Ronald walked over to the window and looked down. Ben L was gone.

Just yonder, Ben L was struggling to make his way through the magical cornfield behind Ronald's place. Ben L had severely hurt his taint during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral blakeyrats suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Chromebook. One by one they latched on to Ben L. Already weakened from his injury, Ben L yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of blakeyrats running off with his Chromebook.

About seven hours later, Ben L awoke, his shin throbbing. It was dark and Ben L did not know where he was. Deep in the mysterious lemur-infested moor, Ben L was barely lost. Happy as a frickin' monkey, he remembered that his Chromebook was taken by the blakeyrats. But at that point, he was just thankful for his life. That's when, to his horror, a misshapen blakeyrat emerged from the lemur-infested moor. It was the alpha blakeyrat. Ben L opened his mouth to scream but was cut short when the blakeyrat sunk its teeth into Ben L's prostate. With a faint groan, the life escaped from Ben L's lungs, but not before he realized that he was a failure.

Less than eight miles away, Ronald was entombed by anguish over the loss of the Chromebook. 'MY PRECIOUS!!' he cried, as he reached for a sharpened ripened avocado. With a skillful thrust, he buried it deeply into his taint. As the room began to fade to black, he thought about Ben L... wishing he had found the courage to tell him that he loved him. But he would die alone that day. All that remained was the Chromebook that had turned them against each other, ultimately causing their demise. And as the dew on melancholy sappling branches began to reflect the dawn's reddish glare, all that could be heard was the chilling cry of distant blakeyrats, desecrating all things sacred to virtuous men, and perpetuating an evil that would reign for centuries to come. Our heroes would've lived unhappily ever after, but they were too busy being dead.

So, no one lived forever after.

The end.

I'm going to print that on recycled paper and read it out loud at the next open mike event at the artsy coffeeshop down the street. Maybe with Lily was here* playing in the background with lots of reverb.

* for people on the good side of the Mason-Dixon line, that's the hipster equivalent of this

I'm going to print that on recycled paper and read it out loud at the next open mike event at the artsy coffeeshop down the street. Maybe with Lily was here* playing in the background with lots of reverb.

It all started when our cliche, protagonistic figure, Ben L, woke up in a magical cornfield. It was the third time it had happened. Feeling abnormally puzzled, Ben L punched a wolverine, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). A few unfulfilled decades later, he realized that his beloved Chromebook was missing! Immediately he called his annoying neighbor, Ronald. Ben L had known Ronald for (plus or minus) 550,000 years, the majority of which were eccentric ones. Ronald was unique. He was intelligent though sometimes a little... funny-smelling. Ben L called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Ronald picked up to a very ecstatic Ben L. Ronald calmly assured him that most 3-legged wallabies sigh before mating, yet long-haired sea monkeys usually earnestly yawn after mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting Ben L. Why was Ronald trying to distract Ben L? Because he had snuck out from Ben L's with the Chromebook only four days prior. It was a curious little Chromebook... how could he resist?

It didn't take long before Ben L got back to the subject at hand: his Chromebook. Ronald cringed. Relunctantly, Ronald invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Chromebook. Ben L grabbed his whale and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Ronald realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the Chromebook and he had to do it carefully. He figured that if Ben L took the noise-polluting import, he had take at least eight minutes before Ben L would get there. But if he took the HTML and CSS? Then Ronald would be excessively screwed.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Ronald was interrupted by nine selfish blakeyrats that were lured by his Chromebook. Ronald yawned; 'Not again', he thought. Feeling puzzled, he aptly reached for his dull pencil and randomly stroked every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the lemur-infested moor, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the HTML and CSS rolling up. It was Ben L.

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a 12-pack of gerbils, so he knew he was running late. With a inept leap, Ben L was out of the HTML and CSS and went surreptitiously jaunting toward Ronald's front door. Meanwhile inside, Ronald was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the Chromebook into a box of dangerous oil-soaked rags and then slid the box behind his whale. Ronald was concerned but at least the Chromebook was concealed. The doorbell rang.

'Come in,' Ronald flamboyantly purred. With a inept push, Ben L opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some dimwitted self-righteous ass in a hippie-pleasing hybrid vehicle,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Ronald assured him. Ben L took a seat tragically close to where Ronald had hidden the Chromebook. Ronald cringed trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But Ben L was distracted. Just as zero people expected Ronald noticed a stupid look on Ben L's face. Ben L slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'...What's that smell?'

Ronald felt a stabbing pain in his armpit when Ben L asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the Chromebook right by his oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A clueless look started to form on Ben L's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's gerbils from when she used to have pet disease-carrying chipmunks. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Ben L nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Ronald could react, Ben L thoughtfully lunged toward the box and opened it. The Chromebook was plainly in view.

Ben L stared at Ronald for what what must've been six millseconds. Unaware of the bleakness of existence, Ronald groped surreptitiously in Ben L's direction, clearly desperate. Ben L grabbed the Chromebook and bolted for the door. It was locked. Ronald let out a eccentric chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Ben L,' he rebuked. Ronald always had been a little selfish, so Ben L knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Ronald did something crazy, like... start chucking dangerous oil-soaked rags at him or something. As if it really mattered he gripped his Chromebook tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

Ronald looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Ben L. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame three days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for Ben L. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Ronald walked over to the window and looked down. Ben L was gone.

Just yonder, Ben L was struggling to make his way through the magical cornfield behind Ronald's place. Ben L had severely hurt his taint during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral blakeyrats suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Chromebook. One by one they latched on to Ben L. Already weakened from his injury, Ben L yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of blakeyrats running off with his Chromebook.

About seven hours later, Ben L awoke, his shin throbbing. It was dark and Ben L did not know where he was. Deep in the mysterious lemur-infested moor, Ben L was barely lost. Happy as a frickin' monkey, he remembered that his Chromebook was taken by the blakeyrats. But at that point, he was just thankful for his life. That's when, to his horror, a misshapen blakeyrat emerged from the lemur-infested moor. It was the alpha blakeyrat. Ben L opened his mouth to scream but was cut short when the blakeyrat sunk its teeth into Ben L's prostate. With a faint groan, the life escaped from Ben L's lungs, but not before he realized that he was a failure.

Less than eight miles away, Ronald was entombed by anguish over the loss of the Chromebook. 'MY PRECIOUS!!' he cried, as he reached for a sharpened ripened avocado. With a skillful thrust, he buried it deeply into his taint. As the room began to fade to black, he thought about Ben L... wishing he had found the courage to tell him that he loved him. But he would die alone that day. All that remained was the Chromebook that had turned them against each other, ultimately causing their demise. And as the dew on melancholy sappling branches began to reflect the dawn's reddish glare, all that could be heard was the chilling cry of distant blakeyrats, desecrating all things sacred to virtuous men, and perpetuating an evil that would reign for centuries to come. Our heroes would've lived unhappily ever after, but they were too busy being dead.

The first rule of people who claim that they know JavaScript is that they don't actually know JavaScript.

I've been a web dev for way too many years. In my time the amount of JavaScript I've actually had to deal with is pretty small. When I need something like that it boils down to asking google, then downloading a jQuery plugin and moving on.

The first rule of people who claim that they know JavaScript is that they don't actually know JavaScript.

I've been a web dev for way too many years. In my time the amount of JavaScript I've actually had to deal with is pretty small. When I need something like that it boils down to asking google, then downloading a jQuery plugin and moving on.

I'm going to print that on recycled paper and read it out loud at the next open mike event at the artsy coffeeshop down the street. Maybe with Lily was here* playing in the background with lots of reverb.

* for people on the good side of the Mason-Dixon line, that's the hipster equivalent of this

You sure anybody would enjoy it? It's basically one large abstract surrealist joke reference to memetic jokes about programmers who laugh at jokes about software development.

I'm going to print that on recycled paper and read it out loud at the next open mike event at the artsy coffeeshop down the street. Maybe with Lily was here* playing in the background with lots of reverb.

* for people on the good side of the Mason-Dixon line, that's the hipster equivalent of this

You sure anybody would enjoy it? It's basically one large abstract surrealist joke reference to memetic jokes about programmers who laugh at jokes about software development.

At open mike events, any content that includes no subtle vagina reference whatsoever is immensely refreshing for the crowd and they typically reward the poet with a standing ovation.